The Black Suit stimulation PT2
by TempestJo
Summary: Written with permission from Medusa20, author of The Black Suit Stimulation, read that first, I HIGHLY recommend it!


PT2 to the Black Suit stimulation by Medusa20

I asked her to write a pt2, and she told me to do it, hopefully this lives up to her expectations, I tried to keep it with the episode as much as possible?

By TempestJo

The ache between my legs is such that I'm afraid to stand, so I sit with my legs pressed tightly together, avoiding looking at him. If I look at him I might forget where I am and slide my hand under the table and up his leg, and I'm not sure if I could stop there.

He's jittery, and I give him the wine. He drinks it faster than I expected, and when he leans in for more, I give him mine, and watch as he puts his lips to the glass where mine had been only moments ago, his tongue flicking out to taste the lipstick stain, his eyes on mine. His other hand is on my knee, and his fingers are moving, drumming an invisible beat, stroking the inside of my thigh...

He is more devious than I thought. I part my legs slightly and his hand slides up my thigh as he reaches forward to drink from the bottle. I've never wanted to be a bottle before, but I do now. Only the group of people around us, talking to us, is stopping me from climbing into his lap and sticking my hand down his pants.

They call him to the stage, and the drink and his nerves take hold. His pants come off, and I want to be hiding behind the podium giving him head, but I can't, not now. I wait.

On the ride home he pretends to fall asleep, but in the light from the street lamps as they flash by I can see him watching me from under his lashes. I slide my hand up his leg and he shifts towards me. I tell myself that I'm just going to make him more comfortable, and i reach up to undo his shirt buttons, I want to see that superman logo, I want to slid my hands down his sides and press my lips to his neck and grind against him...

The car stops and I realize we're there. Sheldon's eyes close, he's pretending to be asleep again. Leonard sighs, and pulls Sheldon out of the car, he consents to move his legs and with Leonard on one side and me on the other, we get him up the stairs. His hand is on my ass the whole time.

I convince Leonard to go to bed, that I'll get Sheldon tucked in. Sheldon helps by moaning, which sends Leonard scurrying out the door and into his own room.

He's sprawled on the bed, and I can feel a long finger trailing up the back of my knee again. My knees buckle and I sink down onto the bed beside him. He's not as drunk as he was. He's smirking, and his knee is pressed against mine, when he whispers my name I look at him, and his hand slides up my skirt. It's too much, I move to meet his fingers, I need him. I've been aching all night, his fingers slide into me effortlessly and I have to bite my lip to keep from moaning.

"Thank you for your help tonight." He whispers, his tongue grazing my ear again, as he moves his hand carefully.

I hum. It's not fair, he shouldn't be this good looking, this smart, this, oh god, this good with his hands. His lips are on my shoulder, I feel his teeth nipping at my collarbone and I arch my back towards him, just a little lower, I think, and then I'll stop...

I have no intention of stopping. I'm such a liar. My body has wanted this since he first showed me his whiteboard and his eyes took me in.

I can feel him against me, against my thigh, his other hand is fumbling with his pants, the moment he is free he sighs, and I nearly come from the sound alone. I can't pull his shirts off, but I do get his tie, I use it to pull him on top of me. There is no stopping this now.

"Penny." He whispers as he slides inside me, his pants kicked to the floor, "This can't happen again."

"No." I agree, wrapping my legs around his hips and burying him inside me. "Never again." We're both liars. He moves, and I slide my hands up his chest, he gasps when I touch his nipples, his head comes down to mine, and he's kissing me, really kissing me, thrusting at the same time, his hands clenched on my hips, trying to bury himself deeper.

The first time I come, I see stars, they are reflected in his eyes, he watches as the climax washes over my face and it seems to surge him on, he wants to see it again, to feel it again, he's growing, and he starts to whisper, the words don't make any sense to me, but the taughtness of the muscles in his arms and the urgency in his motions speaks a language I do understand.

It's a wonder Leonard can't hear us, we're trying to be quiet, but when his voice dips to a lower octave that makes my spine hum I just can't handle it and I cry out.

He muffles the sound with his lips, as much as he can, because he's coming apart too, I can feel it, and it's delicious. It feels as good as he looked when he left my apartment earlier, left me standing in a heated puddle of want, wanting nothing more than to through him down on the couch and lick him from head to toe, or rather, hip to thigh.

I still want to taste him, but it won't be tonight, I want him stone cold sober, and somewhere where I can scream when I allow him to take me, where I can hear him cry out when I open my mouth and slide it down over him, enveloping him in the warmth of my tongue.

A final moan and his head collapses onto my shoulder, and he rolls over, his chest heaving.

Within seconds, he really is asleep.

I pull the blanket over him, and tiptoe out, taking his pants with me.

Tomorrow he will pretend that he doesn't know what happened.

But I've got his pants, and he's got my underwear, clutched in his hand.


End file.
